Thornfield reflections
by Notasitseems-x
Summary: After hearing about a certain marriage that has recently taken place Blanche reflects on her time at Thornfield Hall.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, honest! This was written for my AS coursework,

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It was late afternoon and John and I were in the drawing room reading. John snorted and broke the comfortable silence. 'Rochester has married at last, a quiet affair. He went down hill after that nasty business with the fire if you ask me.' He ruffled the paper and made to move on but my curiosity was piqued

'Whom did he marry?' John stared at me in surprise at my sudden interest

'A Miss J Eyre, not that it is of importance?' He asked his brow furrowing.

'Of course not' I shrugged my voice too airy for my sinking stomach as I was plunged into memories of two summers past.

I stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens of Thornfield one warm muggy evening during our lengthy stay. The sunset was the colour of a raging inferno looming not so far in the distance casting long shadows on the lawns but I wasn't really admiring the view, I was hoping to catch Rochester's attention. We were due to leave soon, but I was sure it was only a matter of time before he asked for my hand in marriage. It was then that a light breeze picked up and rustled my Burgundy dress which caught me off guard when Rochester spoke.

'What are you doing here Blanche?' I turned and met his granite gaze.

'…I was m…merely admiring the view' I lied stumbling over my words.

'No, what are you doing here at Thornfield?' He said icily. I was completely vexed and somewhat hurt at his sudden stony manner, I thought we were going on so well, he seemed quite drawn to me, always asking for me to accompany him to go riding, but now his temperament had changed as quickly as one would change ones attire.

'You requested that we accompany you back to Thornfield Hall' I tried. That was true, but there had been more of an attraction than just his good looks and conversation. His face cracked into a bitter barking laugh.

'And you came in good will, and not because of my fortune?' My mouth fell open in shock at his acerbic accusation. Perhaps he really was stone; he had certainly chipped away at me. 'No I…' I flustered trying to regain the ground I had so desperately lost, but it sounded weak to my ears and apparently Rochester's too

'Indeed. Exactly as I thought.' He said quietly, and with that he was gone.

My first feeling was rejection, I felt hurt that I had been nothing but genial and welcoming only to be routed out like mould. I then pondered his change in manner, but I couldn't deny I hadn't seen it before. Rochester was a brooding character and seldom said more than was required, and his brow always appeared to be furrowed as though it was permanently set that way. My thoughts then wandered to the matter of his accusations and how they were not far from the truth. My intentions for marrying Rochester were not entirely genuine, it was true that on hearing that he had quite a fortune his face suddenly seemed softer, and his silence was suddenly companionable.

I was jolted out of the uncomfortable recollection by John's wary voice. 'Blanche my dear, are you well?' I shook my head and tried to compose my features

'Yes, quite well' I smiled but it didn't reach my eyes, he nodded and returned to his newspaper. I nearly cried out in frustration at his lack of response, did he not understand the need for affection or concern? I grimaced, how foolish of me to expect love from my husband. Of course, the vows we had taken in front of God mentioned nothing of loving and caring for one another how silly of me. I exhaled slowly to avoid the pent up anger I could feel, it would not be wise to get oneself riled to a fit of fury. I looked back to my book but I could not dismiss all thoughts of the marriage of which John had informed me, particularly the identity of Rochester's new wife. '_A Miss J Eyre' _The name was awfully familiar and it took me a while to place it and when I did my heart sank at the realisation I felt. My first feeling was jealously that Rochester had chosen a lowly governess over me, a respectable and accomplished lady. But the other was that Rochester and the governess shared something greater than I would ever experience, for if there was something I had learnt about Rochester, he did things for nobler reasons than society and reputation- unlike my husband and I-and for that reason I felt bereft.


End file.
